


Nightmare

by oRpheusB20



Category: Splatoon
Genre: But first, Cousin Cuddlefest, Does it count as Character Death if the character dreams of having killed themselves, Gen, I wrote this in literally a couple of hours, I'm probably sleep deprived too which isn't helping, IDK how to actually tag this, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 15:20:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20548331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oRpheusB20/pseuds/oRpheusB20
Summary: Insecurity turns to fearFear turns to pained dreamsPained dreams turns to snugglesSnuggles turns to a burrito Marie





	Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> Literally I was thinking at, like, 4 in the morning that I should just make a series of oneshots under the series name of 'Agent Days' or something to follow up the last random thing I'd made a week or two ago.  
And then it seems lack of sleep and working nine and a half hours at a fast food joint where I swear to the heavens one of my coworkers was patronizing me (he told me how many crackers to add to two things of chili. Do you take me for a child? I've been working here for well over a month, I at least have that bit down thank you) then caught up to me and the first part of this was born.  
So half of this is sorta a pseduo-vent fic I guess? Just something my mind made up while I was in a bad mental state that actually somehow made it to paper.  
The second half is pure cousincuddles and bantering (again, made in a couple of hours so it's probably nonsensical but whatever)
> 
> But for the first half, yeah, I def think I need to put up a bit of a warning... It's not exactly, uh, trigger-friendly, I suppose? Posting stuff that hits these sorts of notes is new for me and I'm being weirdly chickenshit about actually doing it, hahaha...  
So  
Character dreams of having killed themselves and waiting to see if anyone will react because my headcanons are slowly getting more and more depressive

A spirit, no longer visible to the naked eye, rested in the place of its body’s death. It stared with a tired gaze down at the bed upon which a corpse lay.

It, technically, was a she. In life, a female. But that was little more than a title now, one that need not be clung to beyond the logic of the pronoun use being habit.

The call of the afterlife, a force pulling at her soul, was strong. It had started weak, but as minutes turned to hours and hours passed into days, it grew more and more. Still, she resisted. She didn’t really know why, though. She couldn’t justify it herself. Some restless part of her was waiting, waiting, waiting for her roommate to finally return home, to discover the body and to dismiss it as a pain to have to clean up after a long trip.

Then, she would know. Then, she could leave to wait out the rest of eternity in oblivion.

Honestly, she didn’t know how long it took. Long enough that the body was likely to start smelling pretty awful. In a way, that was its own proof. The body, _her_ lifeless body, was left ignored for days, weeks. Maybe even months. And still, she stayed, refusing the tug even as it grew more and more powerful.

During this time, she focused on other things, to ignore the incessant need for her soul to move on.

She had passed away while obviously in pain. The tears tracks on her cheeks had long since dried, but the salt still sat there, faint but visible. Her mouth had been left hanging open in a last gasp of breath. Vaguely, she remembered having a hard time breathing during her final moments. Not a shock, she supposed, since she could still feel a dull phantom pain on limbs that no longer existed in her spirit form. Her bed was a mess, blood everywhere as she briefly got scared of what she was doing to herself, flailing up from where she had been lying in an attempt to rush to the bathroom, or perhaps grab her phone to call for help. She had managed to calm herself before too long and settled, gently singing a familiar tune while she waited.

That song was the only thing she had by the end… the only thing totally her own, which, in hindsight, had been a cry for attention. A call for someone to notice the pain she felt in her soul and help her before she ended up in her current state. Back then, she had been in a relatively decent place, mentally. Or… perhaps that was a lie. After all, it had been a lie that anyone cared for her, right? That’s why she was waiting for her body to be found and buried six feet under. So, no, she supposed, it wasn’t that she was in a good place. It was that she had tricked herself into believing that she wasn’t a complete burden.

She sort of wished that she could put on the tune, with the smartphone that she had left lying on the bedside table. To listen to it in the hopes that it would give her the power to resist going to the afterlife for just a little bit longer. To reexamine her own lyrics, with the benefit of hindsight to guide the analysis. She lacked a voice now, in this form, to sing with, and it got jumbled up in her head trying to go over it by memory alone.

In fact, her entire memory seemed to be fading. Chucks of time started disappearing after a while, and then, whole parts of what she knew about the world. Her mother’s face. Her father’s warmth.

She would have forgotten her cousin’s smile, if it wasn’t on a poster framed on the wall. And yet…

Squid Sisters…

Yeah, that was their group, but what had been her cousin’s name?

Come to think of it, what was her name?

Did it really matter, in the end? She was merely sticking around to see if her cousin would shed a tear. That was all. So names didn’t matter, so long as she could match up a face and know that one of the two people in that picture was her, dead on the bed, and the other was her relative.

That’s all she needed.

More and more slipped away as the urge to leave grew with every passing day. But she clung to her purpose. She held onto that, desperate to get her answer.

And then it finally, finally came…

“I’m home!”

She struggled to emerge from the trance she had fallen into, very nearly slipping away to the heavens… or wherever the hell she was going to go when she gave up the fight.

“Hello?”

The voice sounded so lonely. Not even tired. Just like the owner wanted a warm hug. To have a companion.

A knock on the door followed after a minute or two. “Hey. You awake? Or even there? I know it’s been a while since I’ve been able to come home. But… I was hoping we could, uh, ya know, hang out. Watch a movie or something, since you’re probably sleepy. Come on, I even stole this fancy-ass blanket from the nice place they booked me in.”

When the living got no response, the door opened a crack. But then it stopped before it was more than a couple inches ajar.

“Please don’t tell me you moved out…”

When there was still nothing, the person who happened to be her cousin entered the room, eyes sad even before seeing the sight she was soon to behold.

A gasp soon followed, and the teen went still as a statue, eyes becoming wide and unblinking. Eventually, her mouth started to work again, opening and closing and attempting to form words to no avail before there was a choked, “No…”

The still living sister dashed forward, examining the long dried blood on the sheets. And yet still, even with the evidence so clear, a pair of fingers soon pressed to the body’s neck, searching for a pulse. Her breathing grew heavy the longer she was without response, tears in her eyes making them look glassy.

“Hey. This isn’t funny! Why the hell would you do this?! Since when was it fun to play with my emotions!? Come on, Marie!”

The name washed over the spirit, who had been watching and waiting passively, the lack of any remaining major memories with which to give her reason to care about the scene before her causing her to feel rather indifferent. Some vague part of her thought it amusing, that she had stayed in the realm of the living for so long to see this very moment, but when the time came, she couldn’t bring herself to care anymore.

Marie.

Was that her name?

It… honestly didn’t matter, she soon concluded. What was a name but an identifier? Just like a pronoun. It held no meaning to a dead person.

Well…

She’d seen what she had stayed for.

No reason to watch this nonsense anymore. The lack of memories was making it hard to feel any emotions as well, so this was somewhere between uninteresting and downright boring. Even as the squid who was still alive tried to shake her awake, and then frantically called for help, the dead body’s soul gave up the fight against the pulling.

The process was honestly agonizingly slow. It took minutes, which didn’t make any sense, but also explained how she had resisted it for so long, even when going in and out of awareness of the fight she had been engaged in. In that time, while waiting for someone to come and help, the living girl looked around the room for clues. Something to explain what she probably had thought to be an act utterly out left field.

It wasn’t long before she found the note that the now deceased had left behind. She held it up with trembling fingers, holding it close while trying to blink away the tears in her eyes, trying desperately to read the writing on the paper.

“I d-don’t want…” she hiccupped, but continued to read aloud regardless, “t-to be a burden?” The tears came harder, and she grasped the note, holding it close to her chest as she doubled over, seeming to struggle with so much as breathing. “You weren’t! What the hell, Marie, you weren’t! I love you! You can’t leave me, dammit!”

Even as the scene faded away, some part deep in her, that which made up the very true core of her existence, felt a twinge of sadness. For her cousin had cared. The other girl didn’t know there was the spirit of her dead cousin hanging about, and she still burst into tears, and now, was pleading for forgiveness. For not being there. For not noticing when she was there.

There was a brief half-second or so where Marie could think clearly. And she realized just what sort of emotional wreck Callie had devolved into. She had been lonely just arriving home, thinking her cousin was asleep and wouldn’t be able to spend time with her.

And to come home to a dead body? To arrive to the news that she would never again be able to feel her dear relative’s warm skin as they held hands, to never hear that low, sorrowful voice sing, to never see that one smile which was reserved only for her, for she always had a way of drawing it out, no matter the time or place, since she always had been such fun to banter with.

That had to hurt more than anything else in the world. It was almost like the ultimate rejection, made only so very vaguely better by the letter addressed to her stating that the younger squid had left not because she wanted to hurt Callie, but rather because she had wanted to stop dragging her down. Not that the reason made it any better to the wounded soul that was her partner as she wailed, unaware that her cousin’s spirit had waited for ages just to see her one last time before she moved on to whatever was to come after this.

Even lacking a voice or any sort of form, she tried to reach out, to give some comfort to the crying teen. But she went unnoticed.

As to be expected, since she was dead.

The moment of clarity faded, and she too faded, internally sobbing, even as she ceased to remember why.

It was with a pained cry that she awoke, struggling against the mess of her many sheets and one distinctly very heavy weighted blanket that most certainly was not supposed to pin her to the bed when she was suffering a sudden awakening from a nightmare, even though it did so anyway.

She was…

She’d never felt so damn lonely before in her life. And loneliness was an old friend by this point, alongside the depression and anxiety. It was the one thing that she couldn’t treat by downing meds, so she was more than acquainted with the feeling. And yet…

She was floored by the intensity with which her very being ached for a loving hold.

Callie wasn’t home. She couldn’t be. The nightmare wasn’t based in truth beyond the setting of her room being accurate down to the detail; Callie came home at least once every week now, no matter the distance between home and wherever she was filming. She was well aware that her cousin had developed separation issues following her kidnapping and subsequent rescue and made it a routine to come home so they could spend time together and ensure that their bond didn’t get strained like it had been in the days just before the kidnapping. Of course, Callie had her own selfish reasons for wanting to come home more often, partly taking comfort in the idea that her cousin would ensure that she was not taken away again and partly just needing someone to talk to who actually gets her. Not that Marie much minded, since she had grown so reliant on the other’s presence as of late that it was only fair that Callie get to rant to her and use her as a guard dog. It wouldn’t take nearly as long for her to next return than her fearful mind worried, and she tried to remind herself of that.

But the nightmare said it all.

She wasn’t sure if she’d forgotten to take her medication the day before, or if something else had gone wrong, or if she was just filled with more depression than those little pills could contain. But some part of her was scared that if she killed herself right here, right now…

That no one would give a damn.

But Callie had cried in the dream, right? So some part of her mind was well aware that the older girl loved her. Right? And that part had fought back.

Despite everything she tried to convince herself with, she still found herself shaking like a goddamn leaf and holding herself and closing her eyes like if she thought about it right, she might be able to imagine it was Callie hugging her and rocking her and reassuring her. Not that it was going to happen, since her palms were disgustingly sweaty and man, oh man was she aware that she was so totally alone.

Her head jerked up at the sound of a knock on the door.

“Marie? Hey, you alright? I thought I heard you scream.”

Her heart leapt in her chest. Callie was home? What day was it? “Cal,” her voice somehow managed to squeeze out of her throat even though she felt so dehydrated and swore her mouth was determined to stick itself together with thick saliva.

It took all of two seconds before Callie was sitting on the bed beside her, hands on her shoulders. Her touch was gentle, almost seeming to determine that the green squid was made of sand and would crumble at the slightest touch. “What’s wrong? You don’t look too good. You ill?”

Marie shook her head, because she was pretty sure that she wasn’t sick. But then again, she couldn’t really think too clearly right now, disoriented and scared and so, so lonely. So maybe she had a cold. Maybe that had helped to draw out the nightmare that had infested her sleep. She leaned forward, intent on burying her face into the crook of her sister’s neck and breathing in the familiar scent of her weird organic cruelty-free shampoo or whatever that heck that stuff was which clung to those big long tentacles. A nagging feeling of guilt, however, caused her to draw away.

_Don’t make a nuisance of yourself,_ her inner voice growled.

Callie watched this carefully, attempting to pick apart the reaction and figure out what was going on in her cousin’s mind. She had started to do that, lately, whenever she would fail to get a proper response. And she was getting pretty good at it, honestly.

“You lonely?”

Marie hesitated for only a second before nodding. Maybe she was getting a little too good at it. Hit the nail on the head on her first try.

“Sorry. I came home at bit early to surprise you, but you were fast asleep. I didn’t try to wake you when I realized. Guess I shoulda.”

Marie tried to swallow some of the spit clogging her mouth, tried to tell her cousin that it was alright and that she didn’t have any way of knowing that this was going to happen. But it was too hard, honestly, and she was too tired for this. So she just rested her forehead against Callie’s shoulder and let the older one do as she wished.

“Would a cuddle plus movie make you feel better? Since I don’t think you’re going to be returning to sleep anytime soon.”

Still not really able to talk, Marie nodded, even she self-consciously thought about the sweat clinging to her body, likely from the heat of her blankets rather than the nightmare, given that she had felt so damn indifferent for much of the dream. She probably smelled worse than a sock on the foot of a kid in X-Rank after an entire day playing under the sun… The heat of mid-summer plus the many, many blankets on her bed had probably actually been legitimately harmful to her being, and it was entirely possible that she had effectively suffered a fever dream as a result. Of course, that was mere speculation, but something she clung to for why her brain would dare to test that scenario.

“Okay.” Callie smiled softly, rubbing her cousin’s tentacles. Marie managed something of a cooing sound and leaned her head against the hand, encouraging the behavior as much as she could. Head rubs from anyone else were irritating to her tentacles, for what reason, she was entirely unsure, but Callie always knew how to not only make it tolerable, but also downright enjoyable.

With great ease and care, the Roller user swept her partner up into her arms, turned and headed for the living room.

It was smack in the middle of the day, Marie noticed upon seeing light through the windows. What time had she gone to bed again…

Ah hell, she was unhealthy.

Callie sat her down on the couch, murmuring for her to wait a little bit while she got some stuff. Marie tried to snuggle into the leather, but found herself grimacing at the cold of the material and the air. It was too quick an environment change for it to be comfortable. Still, she tried to ignore it until Callie could get back. Then she could turn squid, get to curl up in the other’s lap, get to be covered by the gentle heaters that were Callie’s hands, get to have all of her fears of being merely tolerated smothered under the sheer weight of the love from the one person she’s ever really needed to stay sane.

Soon enough, Callie returned, holding a bottle of water in one hand and carrying a large blanket in the other arm, with half of it slung over her shoulder. “Check it.” She handed the bottle to Marie, which she proceeded to drink half of in one gulp. “I nicked this from my hotel. I’m not sure if no one noticed or if they willfully ignored it, honestly, but one way or another it’s soft as hell and I’m glad I managed to suppress my guilt long enough to get on the plane with it.” She giggled a little and threw it over Marie’s body, tucking it around her until she was the squid equivalent of a burrito. Callie crouched and smiled that smile she gave whenever she had to comfort her cousin from… really anything that left her in a bad state. It was, to Marie’s knowledge, exclusive to her, but maybe she was going around thinking she was special for nothing.

…She should not get into _that _line of thought again.

Instead, she thought about how Dream-Callie had brought up a similar thing. Perhaps Callie had announced it when coming into her room in the waking world, and it had bled into her dream. Okay, so there was _some_ reality in her dream.

“Feeling secure?”

Despite the sweet, loving smile on the older one’s face, her tone was vaguely teasing. And not without good reason, either; Marie honestly wasn’t sure if she could move. Not without rolling off the couch and imprinting her face onto the floor, that is.

“As secure as I can feel when I can’t get up in the event of a disaster.” She was somewhat surprised to find how well her voice worked, but then again it’s not like it had been actually damaged. Just dry.

Callie’s grin grew wider, more playful. “Well, I’d just carry you if something like that happened, dummy! What, you think I’d make you walk?”

Marie raised her brow, more out of habit than anything. “You usually do.”

“Not right now!”

Almost as if to illustrate her point, Callie proceeded to pick up the swaddled Marie and threw her over her shoulder before making for the kitchen.

It took a minute for this to process in the green squid’s mind as the movement of her captor led to her face bumping continuously into a soft black tentacle. “…Why am I suddenly little more than a talking sack of potatoes?”

Callie snorted, quickly attempting to cover the lower half of her face with her hand to try and keep the noise at least somewhat to herself, although she failed rather badly at this. “’Cause I love ya enough to make sure that you get to enjoy as much of my presence as possible, my lonely little cuz.”

She was just toying now, Marie knew. And really, she couldn’t do anything even if she wanted to. It was a good thing, then, that she was actually rather comfy, confined as she was. Too bad about the shoulder pressing onto her stomach, though… That quickly grew to be an irritant.

Luckily it wasn’t long before Callie settled down with her on the couch, one bowl of popcorn resting on the arm of the couch and the other in her lap, slightly angled so it was right in front of Marie’s mouth.

“What, you going to collar me and tell me to ‘speak’ next?” Nevertheless, a green tongue darted out and pressed against a couple of the microwaved delights, withdrawing just a moment later with a the foodstuff being dragged along with it, followed by the sound of crunching as the snack was munched on. She certainly felt like a dog, lapping at her food in such a manner. Some part of her found it kinda fun, though, so she couldn’t be mad…

“Well, you _are_ a dog person, no?” Callie snickered as she surfed their streaming service for something good. “Who knows, you might look cute with a tail!”

“Not that you’d see it under this blanket.”

“If you had a tail and you looked adorable with it, I would find a way to make you snug and comfy all wrapped up like this, and get to see you wag at the same time.”

“You’re assuming that I’d be the type to wag.”

Where was this conversation going anymore? Marie was not sure she even wanted to know. The last thing she needed was for Callie to take this a little too far and actually buy her a fake tail or something.

“You’d wag for me at least, wouldn’t you?”

Laughing at how weird this was, Marie did her best to smirk up at her cousin. “Maybe if you asked real nicely.” Callie chuckled. “But no, for real, you are not sticking a tail on me. Or… in me, for that matter.”

“Oh, you’d like being my dog and you know it,” Callie shot back with a wide smirk, by this point having picked a movie and already having it queued up. But she seemed content with continuing to play this silly little game they had somehow ended up engaging in. A hand scratched behind Marie’s ear, and maybe there was something seriously wrong with her because it was actually kinda pleasant.

Not that she would admit that to Callie, because that would only spur on this weird idea.

“I could get a doctor’s note and call you my emotional support animal! Then you could come to work with me!”

Marie hummed a little. “Tempting. But only because I would be spending a lot more time with _my_ emotional support animal. But still a hard pass. I prefer my backside tail-free. Besides, since when were you a dog person?”

“I’m not. But I’d accept one, if it was you.”

“I can’t tell how much you actually want to turn me into a pet and that’s concerning me greatly.”

Callie chuckled and merely pressed play on the remote.


End file.
